Threat Level
by TheShadeOps
Summary: When something goes wrong, Shade is left helpless and has to follow his basic training: adapt, overcome and survive. Mild Coarse Language.
1. Necessity Is The Mother Of Invention

**G'day guys. ShadeOps here with another story featuring my OC, Thomas "Shade" Williams. This has been in the workshop for a while now, and hadn't had much work on it due to assignments and examinations coming at me from all directions. The joys of nearly finishing high school... :\**

**Anyway, this is just to kick off the story and set the mood. Won't be too long here. Don't have the endurance or brain power just now to pump out a huge chapter like those of my fellow writers.** **Enjoy! **

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**Necessity is the mother of invention...**

_Somewhere in the Middle East..._

Shade's eyes opened slowly, the dust and sand falling from his face. Taking in the scene, Shade groaned. The MH-6 was a wreck, the pilot and co-pilot dead, and the supplies scattered everywhere. The desert sand filled the surroundings, with small mountain peaks on the horizon reminding Shade that he was still on Earth. He moved, but stopped as agonising pain shot through his legs. His right fibula had fractured, his left leg heavily cut. He dragged himself to the wreck, looking for the medical kit and a piece of metal or something to serve as a splint. Whilst digging, he found a radio. But as he picked it up, it fell to pieces. His only lifeline had fallen apart in his hands.

After a few minutes, his leg had been bandaged and splinted, a piece of rotor blade providing the necessary support. Another piece of blade doubled as a crutch, allowing Shade to move around on his own. But now he faced a new set of problems. If he stayed, he risked not being found and dying of exposure, hunger, and thirst, or being found by the wrong people. If he departed, he was at the mercy of the wildlife, weather, but had a higher chance of encountering locals who might just help him. But then that had the risk of being harder to find.

Weighing up the two evils, Shade chose the one with the best odds. He would leave the wreck and look for civilisation. He moved to pick up his weapon, an F88SA2, but found it snapped in half. The pilot's and co-pilot's MP5s were jammed in the wreckage, leaving Shade with his Glock 19 and four magazines. It was not the best situation, but considering what could have happened, it was workable. After picking up a backpack from the wreck, he salvaged through the supplies to recover anything that was useable. When he was satisfied with what he gathered, he took out his compass and headed south, towards friendly lines.


	2. Location, location, location

**I greatly appreciate the reviews already, good to see my fans are still around, lol. This will probably be the only update for a few weeks, after which the uploads should be more frequent. This should be much longer than the first chapter. That was only the intro.**

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**Location, location, location...**

_MH-6 wreck site, an hour later_

The man stood in front of his Toyota pickup, a PKM propped up against the rollbar in the tray. Other pickups were spread out, securing the wreck. The men were dismounted and had fanned out, searching the wreck for any signs of movement or activity. The patrol was responsible for downing the aircraft, and was now claiming the remains.

"_Sir, I think I found something here. Come and see it."_ One of the younger men called out to him, his AKM pointing towards the discovery. Sure enough, they were tracks. Tracks of a man. The patrol leader looked back towards the wreck, then to the start of the tracks, then back to the wreck. He noticed the dents in the sand where things had been, noticed that the wreck had been searched, and saw blood trails along the track in intervals.

"_There's a survivor. He's wounded. Everyone mount up. We need to track him down and capture him. A live soldier is better than a dead one. Kareem, you and your team stay here. They might come for the wreck as well."_ He climbed into the passenger seat of the pickup, as men piled into the tray and prepared to move out. The sooner they find the survivor, the sooner they have a bargaining chip with the NATO forces deployed. With a large cloud of dust, the convoy of pickups and jeeps left to search for the survivor.

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_NATO Base Winchester_

The alarm sounded in the Tactical Operations Centre, or TOC, of the deployed USAF Pararescue squadron. Airmen scrambled from small rooms towards the flight line, where PJs geared up and readied their weapons, crewmen armed the door guns and pilots started the engines of their MH-60K Pavehawks. The radios of the PJs and pilots cracked to life as the watch commander relayed details.

"Pedro 4-1, TOC. No patient as yet, mission is SAR. Aircraft was an MH-6J Littlebird, last contact was one hour and fifteen mikes ago. Location details to follow." The commander fed the location details, as the PJs ran final checks and the team leaders took down details. "We're looking for three allied mil, two pilots and one operator. Good luck out there." The Pavehawks taxied to the take off point and set off towards the crash site.

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_141 Outpost Hilton_

"So, now we wait and sit on our asses?" Roach was visibly upset at the situation. Not only had his friend gone MIA whilst returning to base from a mission, but the task force called in help from the USAF. "How good are these PJs anyway?"

"Some of the best Roach. Not only are they equal to the likes of Delta and the SAS, but they are also trained paramedics. I'd trust my life with them any day." Meat stepped in to re-assure Roach. "They'll find him in no time, and bring him home." Roach broke away and headed to his quarters. The poor man was helpless. He could not to anything but sit and wait. Wait until news came that Shade had been found, or had been killed in the crash, or killed by militia, or was captured by militia. The endless scenarios ran through Roach's head for what seemed like hours.

"Roach, open the door! Don't make me break it down!" Roach got up, waited until he could hear the person step back, and opened it as Rook flew in, expecting the door to still be there. Rook landed on the metal floor with a loud thud, and Roach chucked a bit. "Not cool Roach. Look, I heard about Shade. And I know we're sending the PJs out. But something doesn't sit right." Rook was also upset. He and Shade were close, being some of the few Australian soldiers in the 141.

"So, what are you suggesting?" Roach asked, showing curiosity as to what Rook was thinking.

"We gather a small patrol, head to the wreck and try to find Shade ourselves. If I know Shade, he'd have fallen back to his basic survival training."

"And what did they teach you down there?"

"Adapt, overcome and survive. He'd have left the wreck by now with the crew and moved south towards allied lines. When the PJs get there, they aren't going to find them. If we want to find them though, we need to get moving now."

"Agreed." The two men left the room, stopping by to collect more men for the search party. By the time they reached Soap and Ghost, they had gathered Royce, Archer, Scarecrow, Neon and Hex. Roach stood behind Soap, and waited for him to acknowledge him.

"What is it Roach?" Soap turned, and saw the group of men, all dressed in combat gear and ready to fight. "Let me guess, you all want to go find Shade? Well, I'm sorry to break it to you men but I can't allow it." The men started to protest, but Soap silenced them. "There are reasons to why we can't. Firstly, the PJs are already on the way. They are the best people for the job. Secondly, if you are all out and we're needed for a mission, we won't be able to take it on. We'll all get in trouble. Thirdly, you'll be against the militia and civilian population, who aren't too friendly with us. Chances are, you'll suffer more casualties before you find him."

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_In the Middle Eastern wilderness_

Shade had been moving for a good hour now. The pain from his legs had subsided, allowing him to move faster. It would do more damage in the long run, but for the time being it was worth the risk. He moved in bounds, stopping for a second or two after each hundred meters. By estimates, he had covered at least a kilometre by now, and was out of immediate danger.

But with his injuries, he'd be lucky to get further than five before succumbing to pain and fatigue or being captured by the group that shot him down. The moments leading up to the crash came back to him over the course of his evasion.

_The mission had gone well. A single man deep recon at a known militia headquarters. They had acquired multiple anti-aircraft weapons, rendering drones and direct assaults useless. He had to walk a good ten kilometres to and from the drop point to get to the target. It was only a few minutes after being picked up when they had been shot at by a Strela. They evaded it, only to run into the path of a second one. The aircraft lost the tail rotor and engine, auto rotating to the ground. They landed too hard, and the impact flung Shade off the bench seating and into the sand. The aircraft then flipped and rolled a few times, killing the crew. It came to a rest on its side, leaving Shade unconscious._

It had been rough, but considering that he only broke a leg and had moderate scratches on his body, he was lucky. Shade stopped, taking a small drink from a canteen he recovered. He had about a quarter of a canteen of water left, and a day's worth of food remaining. He only had a sidearm with four magazines left, a knife, a compass, and the clothes on his person. Shade had ditched his plate carrier after finding that the crash had broken the plates, rendering them useless. It was extra weight to carry regardless, and the lighter the better.

He heard an engine resonating towards his rear, and moved to cover in a small cluster of bushes. Sure enough, a white pickup was driving closer, the tray loaded with men who were armed to the teeth. Shade stayed as still as he could, but despite his efforts, the pickup slowed down and turned towards the bush. It pulled up just short of the bush, the driver dismounting with his rifle slung behind him. Shade didn't dare look up as the driver stopped just short of him, close enough that Shade could read the small manufacturing tag on the tongue of the shoe.

The sound of a zipper broke the silence, and a small stream fell from the driver, landing just to the side of Shade's face. The man needed to stop and relieve himself, and thought the bush would be the perfect place. Animal instincts still show in humans, apparently. A few seconds later, the stream stopped, the zipper was closed, and the man set off back to the pickup. The pickup sped away, and Shade looked up towards the sky.

"Thanks."

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**Keep up the reading, I read all reviews. Sometimes just minutes after they are posted.**


	3. International Relations

**Been busy, first major exam is over. Can relax a bit more. Pumped this out during the first hit of relaxation. Bit short, but keeps the plot moving.**

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_Near the crash site_

The MH-60K Pavehawks neared the crash site, the PJs eager to get off and get the wounded to safety. Kareem, the man ordered to guard the site, saw these two helicopters and pulled out a SA-7 Grail missile launcher. Taking aim on the lead bird, he fired.

"Pedro 4-1, missile launch. Taking fire!" The pilot deployed his counter measures, and pulled hard to the left. The missile took the decoys, and flew harmlessly under the aircraft. "Pedro 4-1 to 4-2. Light that sucker up! Be careful not to hit the wreck." The M134 on the lead aircraft and the M2HB on the trail aircraft tore apart the silence as rounds impacted onto Kareem and his small team. The lead aircraft swung around while the trail bird climbed and began to orbit the site, watching over the area.

The second the helicopter touched down, the PJs jumped out and made their way to the wreck. The PJ team leader, James, called it in.

"This is Pedro 4-1-Actual, we've got two KIA at the site, and both of them are the crew. No sign of the operator. Hostiles were destroyed, but no indication of capture. How copy?" The PJTL awaited reply, whilst another PJ, Todd, looked around.

"James, what's the go?"

"Recover the pilots from the wreck and prepare to demolish the avionics." James ran back to the helicopter and grabbed two body bags and stretchers. Todd started to pull the bodies from the wreck when he noticed something.

"James, we got tracks over here."

"What type?"

"Foot tracks. Looks like the walker has a busted leg, his right leg is dragging in the sand every few steps. Plus the blood stains on the other steps. Might be our guy."

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_In a Land Rover Perentie_

The team tried hard to negotiate with Soap to let them go. In the end, they let him be and headed out anyway. Regardless of the risks and repercussions, the 141 never leave a man behind. They had taken the Perentie Long Range Patrol Vehicle, a 6x6 Land Rover that the ADF and SASR used for patrols and rapid movement of troops. Whilst the vehicle had nearly no armour plate, the lack of weight allowed the Perentie to travel at high speeds and maintain good manoeuvrability. The M2HB on the gunner ring station allowed the crew to deliver a decent amount of fire onto a target as well.

They had taken three Perenties: Rook, Roach, and Scarecrow in the lead; Royce and Archer in the middle vehicle, fitted with an Mk 19 instead of an M2; and Neon and Hex in the trail vehicle, with the necessary supplies for the team. Roach made the call to head to the wreck then sweep from the south east to the south west and hope to cross Shade's path. The plan sounded good, in theory anyway. Many variables could affect the success of their plan: Shade might have taken refuge for a period of time; at speed, they might not see him; Shade might have been captured; Shade, the shock of the wreck leaving him confused, might have headed in the wrong direction to begin with; or the PJs found him at the wreck and evacuated him to safety.

They were closing in, and the sound of helicopters grew louder in the distance. Just ahead of them, Roach could make out a helicopter on the ground, but was unsure of the type and who it belonged to. He decided to play it safe.

"Scarecrow, keep eyes on that bird, but don't fire unless fired upon. Don't know what might be in that." Scarecrow replied by pulling the charging handle of his M2, feeding a .50cal round into the chamber. He was ready to fire.

That second, the helicopter lifted off, a large cloud of dust concealing it. It climbed, circled, and then flew towards the 141 convoy. Out of nowhere, sand started spitting out of the ground in small ripples in the path of Roach's Perentie. He slammed on the brakes, Royce and Neon splitting formation and moving to either side. Scarecrow levelled his M2 towards the helicopter and had his thumbs on the trigger paddle.

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_Middle of nowhere_

Shade fell to the ground with hands clutching his broken leg, now oozing blood from a fresh gunshot wound. The crack of a gunshot was too late to warn Shade that he had been found. He looked behind him, dust clouds in the distance getting closer. The pain in his leg was unbearable now, the shot placed specifically to prevent him from escaping. Shade shuffled around, grabbing his canteen and taking a sip of water while he waited for his captors to arrive.

The pickup pulled up just short of Shade, covering him in a thin layer of dust. He waved as the man stepped out of the driver seat as more men jumped from the tray. Shade just looked up at the man with his trademark cocky smile.

"Well, took your time mate."

"American, you cause us much trouble." The man spoke in fractured English, with a heavy accent. Shade could not place it.

"Well, wrong on two counts my friend. Firstly, I'm Australian. Secondly, you're the one causing me trouble." The foreign man laughed.

"You funny. Let us go. Boss wants you." Two men came up behind Shade and picked him up by the arms. They placed him in the tray, his bag beside him. They had yet to search him or the bag yet, the Glock still concealed. Another man started peeling the bandages and splint off of Shade's leg, beginning to tend to it and treat it. _Either evil has its standards, or their boss wants me in one piece,_ Shade thought._ This isn't going to turn out well for me._

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**Keep reading, and keep writing those reviews. I read every one, and during this current time period (Exam and Assessment Stress) the positive feedback will keep me sane.**

**If you're wondering, I am almost finished high school. Got maybe 5-6 weeks left. All of this work has come to this point.**

**Also lived a bit of Shade's life a night ago. Witnessed a two-car collision at an intersection. One car T-boned another whilst it was turning. Low speed (40-50kph) but still violent. One car went spinning. Scared me nearly to death. Both drivers were ok though, only real injury was a sore collarbone from the seatbelt.**

**Fellow readers and writers. Drive safely.**


	4. Mixed Signals

**I apologise for the delay. Exams are finally over, holidays have started, and I can resume work on the stuff I actually want to work on. Had to re-write this chapter a few times, mainly for canonical errors and flow. Also wanted to introduce a new element to the story. Hopefully I can pull it off.**

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**Mixed Signals**

_Enemy compound_

"So, Australian. You know why you are here, no?" The large man asked from behind a table, looking at Shade with a developing grin. _Two can play at this game_.

"Well, I guess I'm here for a beer and some steak." Shade chuckled, transforming the man's grin to a frown. "I must say, here at Hotel Hell are quite accommodating. The doormen took my stuff to my room and were friendly enough to guide me here. Shame about the food though, I'm allergic to the contents of a knuckle sandwich. Leaves a sore feeling in the gut to be honest." Shade glanced at one of the guards, a bruise developing on the guard's face from where Shade had punched him when the guard attempted to subdue Shade on arrival. Shade lent back in the rusty chair he was sitting in.

"You are very cocky, Australian. Or, should I say, Sergeant Thomas Williams, 9126166-M, 2nd Commando Regiment of the Australian Army." The man lifted Shade's dog tags, which they had taken from him on the ride back. The smile on Shade's face dropped, and the chair went back to sitting on the floor properly. "Now, I understand that by the Geneva Conventions that I can only ask you for, and you can only give, your name, rank, serial number and unit. But I know that already. And I also know that neither of us are covered by said conventions. We are both unlawful combatants in the eyes of Geneva." Shade knew he was right.

"So, what do you want to know?" Shade said, deadpan. He had some idea of what he was going to ask, just what exactly he wanted was unknown.

"Well, we've encountered Australian Commandos before, and from what I gather, you are no longer with them. Firstly, your uniform is not what we've seen before. Secondly, the ADF do not operate in this area. Thirdly, you performed a mission that the Commando's never take on. Finally, your tags are also marked with your discharge date." Shade gulped. He had forgotten that he had that done upon being transferred. "So, who are you with? Academi? Blue Sky? Surely contractors get paid a pretty penny to take on CIA tasks."

"Well," Shade begun. He learnt that one of the ways to prolong an interrogation was to present believable lies to the captors. If they make assumptions and share them with you, then use them to your advantage. "My company maintains a low profile. People from Academi and Blue Sky tend to ruin the reputation for guys like me. But, if it pleases the court, I work for Hybrid Services." Shade laid all his money on the fact that his captor bought the lie. Hybrid Services was actually a company in the UK that does specialist printing for vehicles and signage.

"Hybrid? I do not know of them."

"They're a new player on the scene. Managed to pull a few gigs in Iraq, nothing big until now." Shade relaxed, comforted that the interrogator took the bait.

"So, then this patch is the company logo?" The man placed an embroidered patch on the small table between them. Shade's heart dropped the second he saw it. It was the 141's patch. He was royally screwed now. The man must have seen the change in Shade's demeanour as he revealed the patch. "I knew it. You see, even the believable lies have their faults. You are not with Hybrid. You are not a contractor. You are an operator with the 141st Task Force, a group that has been causing me trouble of late." He nodded towards two men standing behind Shade, who grabbed him by the shoulders and led him to a cell. "Deceit never gets anyone anywhere soldier!"

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_At the wreck_

"So, judging by the tracks, he's heading southwards towards the border." James, the PJTL, and part of his team were standing at the front of Roach's Perentie, the two units having identified each other before engaging in a blue-on-blue incident. "He's wounded, probably a fracture and lacerations to the legs. That means he could not have gotten far."

"You don't know like we do though." Roach took a step back, surveying the land to the south. "Shade's one tough fucker, I doubt a busted leg and a couple of cuts will stop him."

"But it will slow him down," replied James. "It'll also leave him open to further injury. And if you haven't noticed, those are tyre tracks over that direction, also headed south. If he's been slowed by injury, you can almost guarantee that he'll get picked up by the guys who shot him down." He consulted the map again. "I'm just making a scientific wild ass guess here, but taking into account his injury and estimated time of departure from the wreck, he'll be somewhere in this sector. Head there, and we might find signs of him."

"Sounds like an idea. We'll take it from here." Rook made the move to start packing up the map and navigational gear when James stopped him.

"I think you'll need our help. If this enemy has the ability to down a fast moving helicopter like this, then they'll more than likely be able to take out these three Rovers you have, taking you out in the process. Our Blackhawks have FLIR and are able to get to a point faster. And if Shade is in critical condition, having an evac there already will increase his odds of survival."

Scarecrow stepped forward after surveying the wreck a final time. "So, what are you suggesting then?"

"We fly over the path, scanning for signs. We see something; we'll let you know where it is. If we find him, we'll hold off and wait for you to recover him while we provide cover."

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_Enemy compound_

Shade lay on the dirt floor in agony. After being returned to his cell, his escorts turned their fists on him. Repeated blows to the face and chest left him battered and bruise. One guard dropped a knee into Shade's crotch, removing all ability for Shade to resist. After a few kicks while he was down, the guards left him alone, blacked out from the pain.

He woke up to a horrific sight. Across the room, another person was laying on the floor. They were dressed in a green PT shirt, camouflage pants and combat boots. The shirt and pants were torn and stained with blood and dirt, the signs of abuse showing. Shade studied the person, and went from concern to horror when he took in the finer details. The camouflage pattern was DPDU, a pattern only used by the Australian Defence Force. And the persons figure was slender, with slightly wider hips. The person's hair was pulled into a bun; however it was disfigured and coming loose, strands of hair falling away. It was a woman, and was an Australian soldier.

Shade crawled over to her, desperate to check on her condition. He blocked out the pain he was feeling, all that mattered now was the state of a colleague. He rolled her over, a tear in the shirt exposing her torso. He covered her up the best he could by covering her with his combat shirt. She stirred slightly, a sign that she was alive. Shade checked her pulse, slightly weak but strong enough for now. He felt around her arms, trying to discern any other injuries such as fractures or cuts. He found only a few minor wounds on her forearms, as if she had been defending herself from an attacker. Her face was swollen and bruised, though to a lesser extent than his.

Shade crawled back, relieved that he did all he could for now. Now, all he could do was to wait for her to wake and find how who she was. He passed the time looking out of the small window in the back wall. The pain had subsided by now, and fatigue was becoming an issue. He studied the walls in the outer compound, noted the activities of the patrols entering and exiting the area outside the perimeter. A noise distracted him, coming from inside his cell. He turned to see the female soldier starting to wake. He ducked down from the window, moving to sit down beside the soldier.

She woke slowly, her head taking in the scene. She was in a small room, with one window. A movement caught her eye, and as she turned she saw a man sitting by her side. She sat up, then realised that she was in different clothes. She opened her mouth to scream but the man held his hand up.

"Hey, shhhhh. It's ok. We're ok." The man's accent immediately caught the woman off guard. It was strangely familiar, but she could not place it. "I don't know what happened to you, but I don't think it'll be as bad as what will happen if we don't get out of here." The accent was calming, but tense. Serious but casual. "You okay mate?" That confirmed her suspicions.

"ADF?" She said, her voice croaky from a dry and sore throat. "Or allied?"

"Allied, but ex-ADF." The man replied, showing a sign of relief. "Call me Shade. What about you?"

"Shelby Watson, 20th STAR, Surveillance Technician." She sat up slowly, and leant against the wall. Shelby looked at Shade, who averted his eyes as she slipped the long sleeve shirt on. She felt better, no longer exposed. She spoke up again.

"So, how did you end up here?"

"These assholes shot my bird down while RTB from a mission earlier today. Both crew were killed on impact, I escaped with a broken leg, and made my way south. I evaded one group, the driver nearly pissed on me in my hideout. Shortly after, a second group picked me up during a break. While they drove me back, they re-bandaged me and treated my wounds. After a quick questioning session, I was dragged into here where two pricks laid into me. I came around after they left, and found you. That's my shirt you're wearing by the way. No woman should be left exposed like that, it's just plain indecent." A minute passed, after which she spoke up, answering his unasked question.

"A patrol I was part of got ambushed along our route, four weeks ago. Our Bushmaster took a hit from both an IED and RPG strike. I was knocked out during the assault, and was picked up by the enemy force after I assume my team left me for dead. It's understandable though. You see a truck take two explosive hits; you assume that there are no survivors. I must have been lucky, or these guys had standards when they picked me up. I woke the first time covered in bandages and in a rickety bed. After I healed up enough, they threw me in here. Since you seem to be the observant type, I guess I'll leave the rest to your imagination."

Shade and Shelby spoke some more, before the pair was interrupted by sounds of distant gunfire echoing in the area. Something was going down, and it was getting closer.

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**Introducing secondary minor OC Shelby Watson, she is the new element I am adding to the plot. We'll see how her presence affects Shade's and the 141's own goals. **

**Reviews are like the tips in a tip jar. They are appreciated. Keep reading!**


	5. Fight, Flight, or Freeze

**Hey guys, "Shade" here. Sorry about breaking my promise to upload more frequently. Just got so busy over the holidays. Now school's started again, and I'm on the final stretch. Roughly 5 weeks left now. So, I probably will not be uploading as frequently as you or I would like. I may pop a one-shot out on "The 141 Archives" if I have time. Who knows.**

**Anyway, onto Ch 5 of "Threat Level".**

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**Fight, Flight, or Freeze**

_On the ground, Land Rover Perentie, sometime earlier._

Roach stood at the patch of bloodied sand, and gazed at the partially obscured vehicle tracks leading into the distance. They had come across it by chance, noticing a few fresh tracks and empty bottles at the patch of sand. The PJs were scanning overhead for some sign of where they had moved Shade to.

Roach's radio crackled to life. "4-1 to ground. We've spotted a compound about twenty minutes away from where you are. It appears to be active, with multiple armed individuals inside and vehicles with hot engine blocks. There isn't anything else like this around, so with an educated guess I can assume that they are holding your man there."

"Copy that 4-1. Send us the details and location, we'll make our way there and assault it."

"4-1 out."

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_Enemy compound, present time._

The gunfire drew closer, the reports of the attacker's weapons becoming clearer and more distinct. Occasionally, rounds would impact the walls outside where Shade and Shelby were being held, sending dust and bits of debris into the cell.

"I guess this is it," sighs Shelby. "We're going to get killed in this raid. I guess the Taliban don't like these guys operating on their turf." An explosion rang out in the compound. Gunfire was much louder now, the attackers having breached the walls of the compound. Shade stood closer to the window, low enough as to avoid being hit by a stray round.

"That isn't Taliban. That gunfire isn't them." A burst rang out, the sound sending a shock of joy through Shade. "That's an ACR. I know that sound from anywhere. Friendlies are raiding!" With a loud bang, the door leading into their cell swung open and a pair of insurgents rushed inside with rifles raised towards the captives. They were here to execute them, to make the rescue effort a vain act. The pair forced Shade and Shelby onto their knees and took aim towards their heads. The apparent leader spoke up, in fractured English, and asked a question.

"Last words?"

This second of delay allowed Shade to notice a small black cylinder fall between the men. In an instant, he realised what this was, and dove towards Shelby. The cylinder exploded, a bright flash and loud bang stunning the captors. A series of shots rang out, followed by two thumps. The captors laid on the ground, gunshots to the head and chest leaving them dead. Shelby was dazed from the noise and light, but was slowly regaining her senses. Her vision came back first, and she saw two men in full combat gear standing in the middle of the room. One had a stencil of a cockroach painted on his sleeve, the other a chess piece. The one with the chess piece wore a helmet and orange tinted goggles, the one with the cockroach wearing a half-mask and cap. He was talking into a headset.

"This is Team one. Cells secure; no sign of target. Moving on to western block." He signalled to the other man, and they exited the room. Shelby wondered why they didn't notice her, and it dawned on her. When Shade dove onto her, they landed in some straw that served as bedding. The flash bang created a micro-pressure wave that stirred the straw and left them covered, effectively concealing them from sight. She went to move her hand from her chest when she felt moisture. She pulled her hand up carefully and saw blood on her fingers. Frantic, she pushed Shade off and rolled him over. Quickly checking herself, she saw that she was intact.

Shelby turned her head slowly towards Shade. The lower section of his abdomen was covered in blood. She turned him over to reveal his back, the entry wound staring straight at her. He must have taken a hit when the insurgents were stunned from the grenade. She carefully stood up, and attempted to treat Shade. She stripped off the shirt he gave her, tearing a sleeve off for her to cover up with later, and started wrapping the wound as best she could. She could only do so much to stop the bleeding and keep him alive.

"Don't die on me Shade. Please."

* * *

_Western section, enemy compound, present time._

"Team two, check in." Rook called to one of the other teams in the compound. He and Roach had just left the building and were proceeding to the western block to continue the search. Team two was Archer and Scarecrow, while the others provided security inside and outside of the walls.

"Two here. Good news or bad news?" Archer radioed back, taking on a role as an assaulter rather than sniper.

"Bad news first."

"No signs of Shade here. They might not have brought him here."

"And the good news?" Roach jumped in, the pair of soldiers now stacked on an entrance to their target building.

"We found the guy who runs the place. Stand by, he's saying something." Scarecrow said this as Rook kicked the door down to the first room. It was a store room, packed with ammo crates and other supplies. "Rook, Roach, you guys clear the central building yet?"

"Yeah, we cleared it a few minutes ago. Nothing but hostiles in there." Roach halted his breach as he replied. "Why?"

"He says that the prisoners are held in a cell there."

"We already cleared a cell there, ran into two fighters." Roach was growing frustrated. "Wait, did you say prisoners, as in plural?"

"Correct. He says they have two soldiers, one male, one female." Roach grabbed Rook by his vest's carry strap and pulled him back outside.

"Copy that Scarecrow. We'll move back and check again. We might have missed them."

Roach and Rook moved back to the doorway of the central building, and quietly entered. They made their way down the hallway to the cells. As they neared the cell, Roach halted, Rook stopping and spinning around to cover the rear. From here, they could make out a feint voice. It was soft, desperate, almost pleading.

"Come on, you can't die. Not now."

Roach tapped Rook on the back and moved closer to the doorway. Slipping a mirror from his pocket and holding it around the corner, Roach could see what was going on. A woman, dressed in tattered pants with a camouflage sleeve around her torso, was bent over what appeared to be another person. Roach could only see their legs from this angle. The woman had to be one of the prisoners that the leader was talking about. Roach slung his rifle and drew his sidearm into his right hand.

"Rook, hold here and cover." Roach stepped out and moved in, arms ready to make the snatch.

* * *

_Cell, central building, enemy compound._

Shelby had moved Shade to a clear patch of floor in the cell, in an effort to keep debris from getting into his wounds. Shade had yet to regain consciousness, his life fading with every minute passed. She put a hand on his face, trying to get some kind of reaction or action to show he was still alive.

"Come on, you can't die. Not now." Her voice was broken, on the verge of tears. She'd only known him for a short time, but his arrival had given her hope, a chance. His very presence gave her the will to keep going, just being able to talk to someone had boosted her morale. She mover her head closer to his, close enough to whisper. "Come back, please." A tear dropped onto his face, and then slowly fell away.

A shadow appeared behind her, but before she could react an arm reached around and covered her mouth, preventing her from screaming. The assailant made a motion for her to keep quiet. She looked at the sleeve of her attacker, and saw the stencilled bug on it. It was the man from earlier. She relaxed, and he did the same. He drew his mask down, revealing a youngish-looking man, roughly the same age as Shade.

"Who are you?" She asked.

"Call me Roach, I'm with Task Force 141. We're looking for one of our men, supposedly he was held here. What about you?"

"I'm Shelby Watson, 20th STAR, Australian Army. Been here for four weeks, was alone until that man arrived. He was only here for a little while until you guys showed up and got him shot."

"Shit. Sorry about that. What's his name?" Roach was trying to get an idea on who this second prisoner was, but was also worried about the state of the first prisoner, Shelby.

"I don't know, he only told me his nickname, it was Shade."

* * *

**Sorry about the cliff-hanger. I'll try to have it up sooner than later. Until next time!**


	6. Moving with Purpose

**Hey guys. TSO checking in. Here is Ch 6 to Threat Level, the plot is beginning to draw to a close. I appreciate the reviews, keep 'em coming. Not just for Threat Level, but for all my Shade fics I've written.**

* * *

**Moving with Purpose**

Time slowed as Roach pushed past Shelby and moved into the cell where Shade was laid down, clothes heavily stained with his own blood. All Roach could see was his best friend unconscious on the floor. He flashed back to when they cleared this room: the flash grenade detonating between a pair of hostiles; their rifles letting a few shots off; Roach and Rook taking a pair of shots each to drop the hostiles. But he did not remember seeing Shade there. There was a blur of movement just before the flash, but Roach wrote it off as one of the hostiles.

Now, time regained speed as more shots rang out on the other side of the complex. Rook stepped in beside him, removing a basic first aid kit from his chest rig, and began to treat Shade. Shelby brushed past him to assist. Roach could not stand it anymore, by standing here he was not helping Shade at all. He had to do something. He reached for his radio, remembering the friend that he made prior to the assault.

"Pedro 4-1, this is Roach. Check in." Seconds passed before he got a reply.

"4-1 here, go ahead Roach."

"We've located two prisoners here, one of them is Shade. He's wounded, needs immediate evacuation. Can you do that?"

"Negative Roach. We've just breached past the bingo now, we need to RTB or we'll run out of fuel." Roach's heart sunk at this news. Their only way of getting Shade back to proper care is no longer an option.

"Copy. Thanks for the help so far. Good luck, Roach out." He switched frequency. "All teams, this is Roach. Everyone regroup at the central building, we need to get Roach out of here." His responses came in the form of mike clicks, the brevity signal for "wilco".

* * *

_Afghanistan..._

_"Williams! Get the fuck into cover and put down some covering fire!" Gunshots rang out across the valley as Tom's patrol team fell into a Taliban ambush. AK fire resonated within the valley, drowning out the cries for help and support from his fellow teammates. An RPG had landed near Tom, shell-shocking him and leaving him in a daze. His senses came back to him, and time sped back up. He sprinted for a small pile of boulders, hoping that the rock would shelter him from the deadly 5.45x39mm rounds that the Taliban used. Tom placed his M4A5 on the top of the rocks, steadying his aim, and took aim at the attackers above. He sighted in a machine-gunner, and fired a three round burst. The rounds impacted in the man's torso, causing him to tumble forward and down the hillside._

_"Frag out!" Tom checked his left, where the call came from. It was his buddy, Chase, recovering from throwing a F1 grenade up towards the enemy. Tom slid his left hand back until it gripped his magazine, it forming a grip for him to use the M203 he had fitted. Tracer from an insurgent caught Tom's eye, and he swung around to point his launcher towards the cluster of hostiles moving down the ridge. He pulled the trigger, a loud pop emanating from his launcher tube. Seconds later, screams and shouts could be heard after an explosion. The 40mm grenade hit its mark._

_"Commando's, we are moving! On your feet!" His team leader shouted over the fire in an effort to get the men out of the area. The worst thing a squad could do was to stay still in a kill-box, an area where the enemy focuses all their fire. "Bell, Halladay, you cover our rear. Williams, Callahan, on point! Move with a purpose people!" Tom got up to move when out of nowhere, what felt like a sledgehammer slammed into his back. He heard a shatter when he impacted the rough ground, the lights turning off at the same time._

_"Williams is hit!"_

* * *

Shade slowly woke, the light seeping into his eyes. He tried to move, but a sharp pain told him not to. He saw a few blurs hovering above him. He could not tell who or what they were, but his instincts told him to stay still. He grunted as a wave of pain flooded his mind.

"Roach! Shade's awake!" A familiar voice came from one of the blurs above him. "Dude, hold on. We're going to get you out of here and back home. Just stay awake." Rook patted him on the shoulder, in an attempt to reassure him. He turned to Shelby. "Keep pressure on that wound. The less blood he loses the better. Roach is working on an evac." Rook stood up and left Shelby by Shade's side.

Roach was outside with the rest of the team, trying to figure out the closest possible place to get Shade aid, and the fastest route to get there. They huddled around a map, growing more and more frantic as each minute passed. Rook walked up behind Roach.

"What is it Rook?" Roach said, visibly and audibly upset.

"Shade's awake. He's completely out of it, but he's awake." Rook paused, as if for dramatic effect. "I'm just concerned that the blood loss might have done damage already. I can't tell right now, we need a proper doctor for that."

"Go back to him, get him prepped to move. Team, we're stepping off in five. We need to get Shade to help ASAP, the closer we can get to a base and radio for help, the faster we can rendezvous with an evac team." Scarecrow and Rook headed inside for Shade, carrying a collapsible stretcher with them. The other team members checked weapons and ammo, and performed a final clearance of the compound.

When Rook, Scarecrow, Shade and Shelby emerged from the building minutes later, the team was ready to go. They loaded Shade into the middle Perentie, Rook sitting on the bench beside him. He reached for his weapon, an ACR, and passed it to Shelby.

"Ever use an ACR?" Rook asked with full attention on Shade.

"A few times, not frequently though." Shelby responded, almost knowing what he wanted her to do.

"Ok, crash course. Charging handles are at the front, like a Steyr. Mag release is down near the magazine well, both sides. Selector is by the trigger, both sides as well. That's all that's needed to know about it. The rest is like any other weapon: point and shoot." Shelby clutched the rifle, checking the chamber for a live round. It was clear. She took up the back bench seat, watching the rear of their vehicle.

Roach sat in the front passenger seat of the lead Perentie. He looked towards his team, and signalled for them to move out. Engine noise reverberated in the compound. "All victors, prepare to move out. Keep your heads on a swivel." Scarecrow gunned the throttle, leading the convoy out of the compound. The men were fully focused on their task now; getting a fellow brother home.

* * *

_"Williams is hit!"_

_The pain left Tom in a dazed state. He could not comprehend what was going on in his surroundings. He did not feel the impact as he hit the rocky ground, nor did he feel hands gripping under his arms, or the feeling of being lifted and dragged away. As he opened his eyes, the world around him was a blur, the sounds muffled beyond the point of recognition. A shadow would move in front of his view, then fade as a dull booming noise resonated around him._

_Something tapped his face, his sense of touch and feeling coming back to him slowly. He was tapped again, and his vision regained clarity. It was one of his mates, Halladay, trying to bring him back to real life._

_"Tom? Come back to me bro, come back." His vision, along with his hearing, regained full clarity, and the situation he was in came back. "There we go. Hey, Secco, Williams is ok! Tommy, we're gonna get you out of here soon."_

_Tom coughed, the pain slowly fading. "Nah, I'm cool, where's my weapon? I'm still up." He sat up, fumbling for his M4A5. He found it, but realised that the sights had snapped off. "Fucking Aimpoint piece of shit. Should have taken an Elcan or something instead." He reached into a pouch on his vest, and replaced the broken sight mount with a flip-up rear iron sight. "Glad I brought this along."_

_Tom made a move to stand up but was held down by Halladay. "Mate, you're in no state to move. Just stay here, we'll be right back." His friend raced off, weapon up and ready to fire. A few more minutes passed by as the fire fight drew to an end, with the rest of his patrol appearing minutes after the last shot. Chase and Bell stepped towards Tom, pieces of a portable stretcher in their hands._

_"There's no way I'm riding in one of them."_

_Chase laughed. "Well, like it or not, Tommy, but that's the Secco's call to make, not mine." The trip back to the Bushmaster was filled with laughs, bumps, and general discomfort for Tom as they carried him back. He had solace in the fact that at least a Bushmaster had shock absorbers._

* * *

The jostling tray of the Perentie drew Shade from his blackout-induced flashback. He turned his head, and saw Rook sitting beside him, maintaining a watchful eye.

"Rook..." Shade's voice was strained, heavily fatigued. The adrenaline rush of evasion, capture, and the initial escape had worn off, leaving him extremely tired. "Dean..." Rook heard his first name being spoken in a whisper. He turned his head towards Shade's, and saw that he had fully woken up.

"Hey Shade. Hold on buddy, we're on the way home now."

"Dean, where's Shelby?" Shade's voice became croakier, sounding like he had not had something to drink for days. "Where is she?"

"She's fine Shade." Hearing Shade call Rook by his first name worried him. The men in the 141 had a rule where first names would only be used off hours, for disciplinary actions, or if something was really serious. "She's by the back, watching our six."

"Good...you got some water or anything?" Rook reached towards the roll bar, looking for his hydration pack. Grabbing the small hose, he placed it in Shade's mouth and squeezed the bag, generating a flow of water. "Much better." Shade's voice lost some hoarseness, and he seemed brighter. "I guess I look like a piece of shit, right?"

Rook could not believe it. Here Shade was, lying on a stretcher in the back of a Perentie, having nearly bled out from a gunshot, and the first thing he worried about was his looks. _Classic Shade_.

"I've seen worse, this could actually be an improvement. You should get shot more often." Rook laughed. "To be honest, you do look like shit. But, we can rebuild you. We have the technology." Shade laughed after this. Rook and Shade commonly made references and quotes to TV and film.

"Not enough parts mate." Shade looked towards the back of the Perentie. He saw Shelby perched next to the tailgate, ACR low but ready to use. She was in one piece, thankfully. He called to her. "Hey, Shelby. Relax, I'm still here."

She turned and saw him, smile on his face, giving a thumb up to her. Taking one last look towards their rear, Shelby made her way towards Shade, taking a seat beside Rook. "I just wanted to say thank you. For what you did back there."

"We're Diggers, we look out for each other. That's the rule."

* * *

**In case you didn't know [history lesson warning], Digger is a nickname for Australian (and New Zealand) Soldiers, originating from the days of WWI and WWII, where Australian soldiers dug in to withstand enemy fire, and because the soldiers had a hard job digging trenches and tunnels. Whilst not too common these days, it still has use and meaning, in similar tones as ANZAC.**

**Keep the reviews coming guys. I need something to read and keep me motivated. TSO out.**


	7. Send Me

**Hey guys, TSO here. I assume maybe another 3-4 chapters remain of TL to go before it ends. No guarantees on finish date or when the next Shadefic will begin, all of these plots came as spur of the moment things, usually started as a one-shot idea that snowballed out of control. Anyway, here is Ch 7.**

* * *

**Send Me**

_141 Outpost Hilton_

Mactavish was furious. Not only had Roach violated a direct order, he had taken other men and three vehicles with him, all for one man. He had been monitoring the radio net throughout the entire ordeal. When the call came that they had found him, Soap relaxed. Then the call came through saying that the PJ team with them hit bingo. His heart rate picked up again. Now his men had no additional support to assist them.

"Sir, what's the go?" Ghost, along with Hex and Deca had stepped into the TOC. Mactavish turned to face him, and was partially surprised to see them in full combat rig. Ghost had his trademark mask on, along with a grey combat shirt and Multicam combat pants. His chest rig was on, but not fastened. Hex and Deca were both in their flight gear, with helmets hanging from their vests. Mactavish could instantly tell that they wanted to go and help out their friends. He stayed silent.

"Sir," Ghost started again. His mask shifted as Ghost's face transformed into a look of desperation. "Send me. Send us. We'll get them back."

"Go."

* * *

_Egress from middle-eastern enemy compound, southbound._

Shelby gripped Shade's hand as he spoke. She glanced away to keep tabs on where they were, but when she turned back, Shade's hand relaxed and he fell unconscious. She leant down towards his face, looking for some kind of motion.

"Shade? Wake up!" Her shout caught the attention of Rook.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. He was talking, and as I looked around, he just faded out." Rook felt around for a pulse, but got nothing. He dug into the medical supply bag and pulled out an adrenaline auto-injector. He jabbed into Shade's chest, an effort to try and get his heart pumping again.

"Shuffle back." Rook shifted over to straddle Shade and started chest compressions. Shelby could only sit back and think that Shade might not make it back to base in time. "Shelby, get on the radio and tell Roach to hurry the fuck up."

Shelby reached around to grab the passenger radio. "Roach, you there?"

"Shelby, that you?"

"Yes, it's me. Look, Shade's just crashed, Rook says to hurry the fuck up." There was a pause for a second as Roach analysed the info. The reply came back.

"All victors, max throttle, IED's be damned, we're getting our boy back ASAP. Shelby, tell Rook to look after him." She relayed Roach's orders to Rook, who was still running compressions. He kept his rhythm steady as the Perentie accelerated towards help.

* * *

_"Mum, Dad. I've applied for the Army." Tom sat at the table, across from his parents and siblings. He had called them for a meeting to tell them the news. "You've known that I've wanted to join the ADF since I was ten, the Air Force in particular. Well, I realised that I wouldn't be doing much in the RAAF. Mostly staying on base and fixing aircraft or pushing papers. I've chosen the Army instead, because it gives me more to do and more to take part in. I'd make more of a difference in the Army."_

_His parents sat in silence, tears starting to flow from Alice, his mother. Jessica got off her chair and ran to her room, her sobbing being audible from her room minutes later._

_"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you before. But, I'm an adult now, it's time I made my own choices."_

_Howard stood up, and walked around to Tom. He sat back down beside him, and hugged his son._

_"Just don't get killed. Whatever you do, please don't get killed."_

* * *

Rook worked harder than ever to bring Shade back to life. Shade woke slowly, then faded back to unconsciousness. Rook moved to make sure Shade was stable again, hoping to prevent him from crashing again.

* * *

_"Day! Your weapon is disgusting, it looks like it hasn't been cleaned since it left the factory in Thales!" Tom watched as the Warrant Officer grabbed the rifle off of a recruit and stripped it down further. "Do you know how to clean an Austeyr?"_

_"No Sir!" The recruit, Day, looked like he was going to cry, especially with the WOFF confronting him like this. "I've tried but I never could get the weapon apart, sir."_

_"Then ask one of your fellow recruits. Williams! After you are dismissed, you will assist Mr. Day and help him clean his rifle. Understood?" Williams shook himself to respond._

_"Sir!" The WOFF dismissed his squad and left to go prepare the next day's training. RCT Day approached Tom with his rifle slung behind his back. Day was like Tom, tall with short hair, but with a thinner frame. He also had a slight slouch, which got more visible the longer he was standing at attention or at ease._

_"So, where do I start Williams?" Day unslung the rifle and held it out for Tom to see._

_"It's Tom, and we start by unloading the magazine." He grabbed the rifle, checked to see if it was on Safe, unloaded the magazine and cleared the chamber. "Never carry a rifle loaded like that. Bump it the wrong way and it could go off."_

_"Thanks, and it's Jesse."_

* * *

Shelby and Rook did all they could for Shade. Now they could only watch and wait for help to come. Shade slowly stirred, but not enough to show he was awake. To the pair of soldiers, it looked as if he was dreaming.

* * *

_The dust was settling as Shade crept forward to the wrecked LRPV in front of him. A body rested by the side of the road, the skin scorched from the intense heat of the blast. The remnants of rank insignia on the back of the vest indicated that it was their team leader._

_"Tommy!" A muffled cry for help caught Tom's attention. "Help me!" He stepped around the burning chassis and found Jeremy further up the road, lying on his side, his leg missing from the knee down. Blood was flowing out steadily, but the blast had sealed most of his blood vessels with the heat._

_"Jezza, I'm coming!" Tom ran towards his fallen friend, hands grabbing tourniquets and his IFAK. "Stay awake mate, stay awake!" He wrapped the tourniquet around Jeremy's thigh, and began to patch up his bloodied stump. "Medic! Mathers, get over here now!" By now, the remaining Commandos in the patrol had secured the site and were calling in for backup. Kyle Mathers, the team's medic, sprinted over to help._

_"Kyle, amputation at the knee, moderate blood loss, and he's fading in and out. Any ideas?"_

_"We need to get him out of here. Any longer and we'll risk infection or Jeremy bleeding out."_

_The Pavehawk arrived within minutes, the USAF PJ team being the closest asset in the area. Tom climbed in to ride with his friend, but was pushed out by the PJTL. He nearly swung at the man, but was held back by his friends. He watched as the helicopter climbed and rushed away with Jeremy._

* * *

Rotor noise started to fill the area, and Roach began scanning the skies. Towards their three o'clock, he could make out a helicopter. As it drew closer, he recognised it as an MH-53 Pavelow. And there was only one force he knew that had Pavelow's nearby.

"All victors halt. Backup has arrived." The three Perentie LRPVs halted into a herringbone pattern as the Pavelow helicopter flew over and swung around. Scarecrow jumped out and threw out a purple smoke grenade, marking the LZ. The Pavelow settled down in front of the convoy, and from the dust emerged a familiar sight.

"Roach, get Shade into the back. The rest of you make your way back to the base. Grab the chick and bring her here as well. Why the fuck doesn't she have a hood over her head?" Ghost started shouting orders the second he saw the men. Roach could not believe it. Regardless, they moved Shade into the cargo bay of the helicopter. There was hope for him yet.

* * *

**Keep the reviews coming. If you haven't already, check out the tumblr link on my profile. So far it has a concept image of Shade's F88 from one of the one-shots I posted. TSO out. Also, little easter egg for those who follow my twitter.**


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